


The Wand Chooses the Wizard

by Arithra



Series: Memoirs of the Master of Death [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Diagon Alley, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-29 20:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10143128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: Harry is in the past. He has no name. No friends. No home. No wand. What he has is a plan, and the knowledge that Tom Riddle is out there somewhere. Harry is going to stop him, but first he need a wand.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Between this and the last piece Harry had a conversation with Dumbledore and the Sorting Head. He has also figured out that he is in the past, and he has not told this to Dumbledore though he was tempted. He has also crafted a semi-functional background for himself.  
> I might come back and write those interactions on a later date.

Getting a new wand was something Harry had dreaded yet anticipated since Professor Dumbledore had told him that he would go shopping in Diagon alley.

Ollivander had always made Harry feel vaguely uncomfortable. Harry could still remember meeting the man for the first time with crystal clarity and he was sure he would never forget the way the 'curious' had left the old wandmakers lips after Harry had been chosen by his Holly wand.

Walking towards the small dingy shop Harry wondered, if the wand would choose him again. A part of him hoped that it would, it was that part, that was sure that he would manage to get rid of Voldemort and save everyone, yet another part sounding vaguely like Hermione chided him, reminding him, that terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time.

In the end Harry had decided to let thing happen the way they would happen. Should his trusty holly wand not choose him it would be alright, although he was quite sure that it would hurt him a little. After all, despite the unfortunate, or fortunate connection his wand had with the dark lords yew wand, Harry had always been fond of his wand.

It had been one of his most trusted companions and the warmth he had felt when the wand had welcomed him back after he had repaired it using the Elder wand was something that had only furthered his fondness.

Harry took a deep breath before pushing open the door and stepping into the shop.

Ollivander was nowhere to be seen, but Harry did not let that deter him. The man would appear when he would appear and he had finished the rest of his hopping already so he really wasn't in a rush at all.

He was just drifting away in his thoughts, wondering what was happening to Ron and Hermione as the old wandmaker's voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Welcome…"

His voice was distant and he looked the same way he had looked when Harry had first visited the shop. Part of his mind realized that Ollivander had to be older then Dumbledore, but he brushed that thought aside and focused his attention on the present.

"Harold Evans, sir. I was told that I would be able to get a new wand in your shop."

The Older nodded, still staring at Harry, a frown on his face.

"Yes that is quite correct.. may I inquire what happened to your old wand? You are too old for this to be your first wand…"

The man trailed off and Harry smiled slightly.

"I was using my late father's wand… but an attack destroyed it. I'm afraid there is little more then to burned endings left."

He had decided that he was going to use part of Neville's story rather than coming up with something on his own, this way it would be easier to keep his story straight.

Ollivander's face showed clear distaste as he mentioned using another wizard's wand.

"Did the wand work for you Mr. Evans… It was rather foolish of you not to get your own wand. It is the wand that chooses the wizard after all."

He trailed off and stared at Harry rather intently.

"I would say, that it did work alright… maybe it had something to do with the fact that my father died protecting me?"

It was a wild guess, but Harry really wanted to get this over with. The old man was unnerving him, even more so than Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes had.

"Perhaps, perhaps… Hold out your wandarm Mr. Evans, and I will take care of the measuring."

Harry held out his right arm and waited for tape to do its work. Ollivander however was already disappearing between the shelves before it stopped moving.

"Try this first Mr. Evans, give it a wave. Fir, 11 ½ Inches with dragon heartstring."

Harry reached for the wand, but before he could actually give it a wave it was snatched away from him again. With a sight Harry resigned himself to the fact, that this would probably be a repeat of his first time in the shop.

Half an hour and dozens, of wand later Ollivander stepped out from behind one of the shelves with a familiar box in his hand. Harry felt his heartbeat speed up and he forced himself to wait for the wandmaker to hold the wand out for him, rather than snatch it out of his hands.

As soon as he felt the familiar handle in his wands, warmth coursed through his veins, but it was different from what Harry had expected.

It was not like the first time he held his wand, nor was it the welcome back he had received after his wand had been restored. This was different, sadder… it was almost as if the wand…

"Goodbye…"

Harry murmured. The wand was telling him goodbye. Telling him, that now was not the time. That he was not yet its master and at the same time that he would not be its master again.

"Goodbye, Mr. Evans?"

Immediately Harry's head snapped up and he looked at the wandmaker in front of him, who was staring at him, curiosity openly visible on his usually unreadable face.

Forcing down a grimace the unwilling time traveler wondered how he was going to get out of this one.

"Yes… It feels like the wand is saying goodbye."

Ollivander nodded absently still scrutinizing Harry with his gaze, as if staring at him even a little harder would bear lay open all of his secrets.

"How curious… I take that it is not the wand that chooses you then?"

Harry nodded.

"But you will come for it one day? I don't think that it will choose another wizard Mr. Evans."

The smile on Harry's face was bitter he knew.

"I will, not yet… but sometime in the future I will come for it… and it will choose me."

They stared at each other for a moment neither moving a muscle nor saying a word. Finally the wandmaker hummed softly and turned away from Harry, walking towards the shelves again.

"I will hold you to it Mr. Evans."

Harry nodded, even though he knew, that Ollivander would not see it, then he gently placed the wand he was still holding in his hand into the box again.

Taking a deep shuddering breath Harry tried to calm himself, but every time he managed to gain his focus his gaze slipped to the holly wand innocently lying on the velvet cushion again and he had to begin his efforts anew again.

Holly and phoenix feather, 11 Inches.

It had always been Harry Potter's wand and he was no longer Harry Potter. He was Harold Evans, Harry Potter was a boy who would step into this shop many years from now, happy and together with his parents if he had any say in it.

With one last look at the wand Harry closed the lid of the wandbox and turned toward the direction where he could hear Ollivander bustling around in the shop.

Just as he turned the man stepped out from between one of the shelves furthest into the shop carrying several very old looking boxes.

"For some reason Mr. Evans, I don't think that one of my wands will chose you…"

He stared at Harry and just as Harry opened his mouth to retort the man continued.

"Phoenix feather, dragon heartstring and unicorn hair… Since I took over this shop from my father I have only used those three cores, they are the most stable and reliable after all. My father tended to like experiments though…"

The wandmaker's finger trailed along the edge of the topbox."

"He used slightly different cores occasionally. Why don't you give it a try?"

And with that he opened the boy and held a slim wand out to Harry.

"Cedar, 12 Inches with, with a granian feather as a core."

But nothing happened until Mr. Ollivander opened the fifth box he had brought and held a very plain looking wand towards Harry.

He took it not really expecting anything to happen, as the accidents that untrained wizards and witches had before they were trained ceased once they learned who to channel and control their magic making the process of choosing a wand now rather boring.

He was surprised however when he felt a pleasant warmth tingle up his arm. It was a different from his phoenix feather wand all over again, it was as if the wand knew that Harry was still sad about the holly wand not choosing him. The feeling was soothing almost consoling and Harry felt a small smile appear on his face.

"Yes, yes…" The wandmaker seemed pleased.

"Redwood, 12 ½ Inches with a hippogriff feather core. A rather curious combination."

Ollivander nodded to himself.

"I expect we will hear of your in future, Mr. Evans."

Surprised by the man’s words Harry’s gaze snapped up from where he was still gazing at the wand and found the old wandmakers eyes.

"The hippogriff, a proud creature that is rather terrifying when angered and a redwood shaft. Did you know Mr. Evans, that it is said that this wand brings is bearer luck."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That is not true of course, it is rather the other way around. The redwood wand prefers an owner that is blessed by fortune."

Not feeling particularly lucky Harry snorted, ignoring the other man's sharp look.

"The redwood wand prefers an owner, Mr. Evans, who is capable to always land on his feet and snatch and advantage out of a catastrophe. Wizards and Witches with redwood wands usually have a rather interesting life."

He looked at Harry as if waiting for an answer, but the young wizard just sighted.

"How much?"

He hoped that the wand had chosen the right wizard. Gaining an advantage out of a catastrophe... didn't that just sound like the perfect description of his life? He could only hope that his two faced luck held true.

Paying for the wand and the wandholster he had decided to acquire, since he did not fancy another stint to Ollivanders anytime soon, Harry stepped out into the alley again.

He would archive his goal. He would change time. No matter the consequences. Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time…

Well I didn't bother him, after all it was not like Harry had anything but his life left to lose. And his life was something he would give quite willingly to protect the people he loved.

A voice in the back of his head reminded him of his adventure with the timeturner in his third year and how, his actions had already happened before he actually had traveled back in time.

Hermione had called it a paradox and he feared that the existence of Harold Evans was one such paradox as well, and that he could not change time, because everything he would and could do, had already happened in the time he came from.

It was a disheartening thought and Harry shook his head as he walked towards the leaky cauldron, ignoring the passersby around him. He could not think that way.

It didn't matter. He knew that Harold Evans had existed; his father's letter had made that quite clear, but Harry would not be a death eater, it didn't matter that his father had been proud to call Evans his son.

He would not be Voldemort's follower, and the easiest way to make sure of that was to kill Tom Riddle before he even became Voldemort. It didn't matter that the thought of cold blooded murder made him sick, even if it was Voldemort.

He would do it, it was the only way to save his friends after all and to Harry there was nothing more important than that.

He had not expected his new found resolve to be tested this early however. Everything had seemed normal when he had stepped into the leaky cauldron, but as he had made his way over towards the fireplace to floo back to Hogwarts, he had turned towards the door to muggle London as if commanded by an unseen force.

Intellectually he knew, that such a force was highly unlikely, as he was capable of throwing off the Imperius curse without trouble, yet he had not even felt the slightest inclination that turning towards the door was a bad idea.

It was though.

Because the very moment Harry turned around it opened and a tall figure stepped in. A figure that Harry was familiar with. Tom Riddle. Older than the last time Harry had seen him at this age. Given that he had been 16 when they had last met and he was now nearly a seventh year, but no less familiar.

Dark brown, almost black hair, that was perfectly tamed, not one hair out of place, that was slightly wavy.

An aristocratic face, that Harry knew he had inherited from his muggle father and a lean frame.

What came as a surprise to Harry, however, was his eye color.

Tom Riddle looked up and met Harry’s gaze as if he had known someone was staring at him, and his eyes, that Harry had always known to be red, were a dark grey.

Like the sky just before a storm – it was strange yet oddly fitting.

Some kind of emotion must have shown on his face, because Riddle did not look away – he simply continued to stare at him, a vaguely confused expression visible on his face.

Their eye contact was broken however, when someone stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and ran into Riddles back, not having expected someone to stand in the doorway.

Harry used the moment Tom turned towards the newcomer to disappear in the crowded barroom.

He knew not to be seen, it was something he had learned at the Dursley a skill that he would never forget. A skill a lot like riding a bike, after mastering the skill for the first time you never forget how to do it, not, that Harry had ever learned how to ride a bike.

Searching for Riddle from the corner of his eye, he found the teenager standing at the doorway leading towards the passage into the alley. Riddle too was searching for something, presumably someone and that someone most likely being him, but he did not notice Harry.

Riddle seemed to shrug, then he turned his back to the room to step into the alley.

It was as if time had come to a standstill

Harry's wand had fallen into his hand before he had even reached for it. In his mind he was already spelling out the words of the one unforgivable he had never used, never even tried to use before.

Something stopped him before he could even level his wand at the teenage Dark Lord.

Then Tom Riddle's back disappeared in the other room and Harry took a deep shuddering breath.

The noise level that Harry had not even noticed after Riddles appearance finally came through to his brain. Someone left of Harry laughed, not even slightly aware, that he had almost been a witness to a cold blooded murder.

Harry forced his breathing that had become erratic to calm and returned his new wand to his halter.

That what it would have been to kill Tom Riddle just now.

A murder, nothing more and nothing less, and Harry hadn't been able to do it. Despite his resolve, despite the fact that it would have been so very easy.

Excuse after excuse, explanation after explanation flittered through his mind and the time traveler consoled himself with the thought that he could not have been sure that the curse would have worked. It would not have been safe and after a failed attempted Riddle would have been far more careful. He would do it later, at Hogwarts or even after Hogwarts, Tom Riddle fully becoming Voldemort was still some time away.

A voice in the back of his mind whispered to him, reminding him, that Riddle already was a murderer. Myrte. Tom Riddle Sr. and his grandparents.

Riddle had already ended more than one life.

Harry silenced the voice and stared at the counter before him. He might have failed, but the next time he would succeed. He would have to.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This is it for this part.
> 
> I wasn't sure what kind of wand I wanted for Harry and I might have written two different versions. This one and one where the wandwood is cypress. Maybe I will post that later on. For the sake of the continuity of this verse Harry's new wand is a redwood wand though.


End file.
